


paper airplanes don't soar high enough

by smolhosh



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, and fluff, hansol has a terminal illness, hansol's still a hip hop enthusiast, im so sorry, seungkwan is just a quiet library boy, sophia also makes cameo bc i luv her, this is just angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:49:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolhosh/pseuds/smolhosh
Summary: This is a story about a boy named Boo Seungkwan who held the world on his shoulders. There is a sadness in the upward quirk of his lips, there is a hidden secret in his eyes. Of course, to allow anyone to share the burden would cause the both of them to crash down, so he promises to himself he’ll only let himself fall.





	paper airplanes don't soar high enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seungsols](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungsols/gifts).



> i've been working on this since october 2015. it's been 2 years, but it's all based off a script outline i wrote  
> this is for my best friend, who has guided me for years, who is more amazing than she knows, who has charm, and who has love.

 

Seungkwan spends his summer days in the same library making paper airplanes. He flies them in the park and always forgets to pick at least one of them up. Hansol finds him one day to confront him. They become friends, but Seungkwan finds himself falling for the other boy. Weeks pass and Hansol disappears, but not before teaching Seungkwan that paper planes don’t soar high enough.

 

* * *

 

 The combination of the summer heat and the hackneyed smell of the library brings a sense of calmness to Seungkwan. He likes to waste his days folding paper airplanes rather than organizing books that pesky students like to leave around for him to put back. If he had to be honest, there wasn’t much buzz in the library anyway. He only picked up the job to help his family financially.

 

 Boo Seungkwan was just another seventeen year old boy from Jeju surrounded by hallabongs and black pork grilled to a delightful mouthful. So in retrospect, he was just a normal boy with short almond hair and deep brown eyes that seemed to hold more brightness than the sun. Sadly, the only thing he believes that his eyes hold are the lies about who he wants to be, though he’s not so sure himself.

 

 When the sun starts to set, and the children in the park outside start running towards their parents to go home, that’s when the library closes. Seungkwan likes to gather up all the planes he’s made and walk to the small hill within the park’s exterior. He flies them off with a swift movement of his wrists, and watches them soar up before crashing down onto the scratchy grass. The nose of the paper plane is always crushed almost every single time. Not once has he flown a plane that land so smoothly onto the floor, gliding down rather than crashing.

 

 He calls it a day and gathers himself up before making his way home. There is a paycheck, slightly crumpled with Mr. Jung’s messy handwriting, tucked away safely in his pocket. The pay for working at the local library was only enough to get him a meal or two, but the extra cash helped his mother out a lot.

 

 The Boo family was not poor. In fact, they used to be far from it. But Mr. Boo caught something disgusting and life-threatening and had to be hospitalized immediately. His help in the bills dropped to the ground and buried itself there, and Mrs. Boo had to pick up a second job as a cashier in a convenience store just to pay the house bills and hospital bills. She didn’t make enough to feed herself or Seungkwan either.

 

 Sometimes Seungkwan hears the taunting from the other students he used to go to school with. He says used to because it’s summer vacation, and sometimes those students tend to to transfer out and go to richer, bigger schools in richer, bigger cities. Seungkwan never even dreamed about leaving the island he had been calling home for the past seventeen years for education in subjects that bore him.

 

 The teasing and bullying usually ends when the teenagers find something more interesting to do. Seungkwan was boring afterall. He never fought back nor told them to just “quit it and go home.” It was only natural that they’d grow tired. It was like kicking a boulder, no result in damage for the boulder, but maybe a little bit for your pride.

 

 Seungkwan had never invested in friends. They were too dangerous. The closer you get, the more they want to know about you. He’s always been afraid that he’d lose them along with his secrets.

 

 But sometimes in the summer, when he sees students grouping up in the park to have picnics or to just talk to each other, Seungkwan feels a tinge of jealousy convey within him. Having someone to talk to was nice, having someone asking you questions about your personal life was not. Yet Seungkwan still looks on enviously.

 

 Seungkwan flew his paper planes from the hill again after work. Satisfied with the last plane landing the furthest, he picked himself off the ground and began to pick up the planes. Once he was sure that each plane was picked up, he proceeded to make his way home. Unluckily for Seungkwan, it always seems that he leaves one behind, tucked away in between the roots of the tall oak trees. He was never one to notice the small details anyway.

 

* * *

 

  He walked along the beach to get home, breathing in the fresh sea breeze trying to relax his mind. The library was getting a new shipment of books tomorrow, meaning that Mr. Jung will most likely give him all the work while he goes to the back room to watch his old Chinese martial arts movies. Mr. Jung was a nice man, Seungkwan had to agree, but the laziness that the man had to offer was slightly frightening. Seungkwan keeps his mouth shut about it though, this is the man providing him the paychecks for his meals.

 

 When his house came into view, Seungkwan felt his heart drop seeing his mother walk out the door with the uniform of the convenience store on. She looked tired, her eyes had lost the shine that they originally held. He wants to reach out for her, pull her into his arms, and sing to her like she used to do for the younger Seungkwan who was afraid of the monsters under his bed.

 

 Instead, he does the opposite. He stands in his spot and watches her hurry on to the corner store before slipping into the house.

 

 The Boo household used to hold happy memories. His dad would often barbecue black pork on Fridays after his long school days and his mother would sing songs accompanying him in the backyard.

 

 Seungkwan remembers seeing them dance together, under the soft beach sunset. His father burned the meat that night, but it was alright. The love that surrounded the air made up for the slightly bitter flavor. It was his favorite memory of them.

 

 Now the only that comes to mind when he walks in is money. How to get it, how to spend it wisely, where to give it.

 

 The once bubbly, bright home turned into a solemn, quiet house. There’s a difference, because you can live in a house but not call it a home.

 

 Seungkwan doesn’t eat that night. He wants to save whatever is left in the fridge for his mother. Even if he didn’t see her on a daily basis, it was better to show her that he cared rather than not being there.

 

 11:37 P.M. is the time that his eyelashes start to flutter and his breathing slows to a steady beat. It doesn’t stop the dreams from flowing in and out, never to be remembered.

 

 Seungkwan dreams that he is happy.

 

 Then, he wakes up.

 

 In the summer before his last year in high school, Seungkwan meets Hansol.

 

 Hansol Vernon Choi, if he had to be formal, was a seventeen year old boy from the big city of Seoul. His eyes looked like they held galaxies and his smile could battle the sun. His hair was longer, split in the middle, and went down near his jaw. Seungkwan would think he was attractive if not for the fact that the other was absolutely annoying.

 

 “You! With the blue converses! Hey!” A voice from behind him called out.

 

 Seungkwan turned around and arched an eyebrow up at the other boy chasing him. His converses weren’t even blue, they were black. Okay, so maybe the color has faded away enough to set it as navy, but they sure were not blue.

 

 “When are you going to stop damaging the beauty of nature with your paper airplanes?” He asked, putting out his hand to reveal a crumbled paper plane.

 

 “Ruining the beauty of nature? Excuse me, I just happened to miss that one when I was picking them up,” Seungkwan retaliates, huffing out in annoyance as the other continued to lecture him.

 

 “Why do you even fold paper planes in the first place? They never go far.”

 

 Seungkwan shrugs, his hands jammed into his front pockets.

 

 “You don’t talk much, do you?” the other boy says before sticking a hand out, “The name’s Hansol. Choi. In fact, Hansol Vernon Choi. King of Rap.”

 

 Seungkwan had to roll his eyes at this because when will this boy- self-proclaimed “Hansol Vernon Choi King of Rap-” shut up?

 

 He reached for the other’s outstretched palm, “Seungkwan. Boo Seungkwan.”

 

 “You got a James Bond introduction going on there?”

 

 “Okay, listen. You just spent like three minutes adding useless extras to yours and even included ‘King of Rap.’ Like what is that suppose to mean? And why the heck are you wearing a long sleeved shirt and jeans in Jeju”

 

 “Whoa okay. So you do talk more than I thought. It’s cool though, I call myself ‘King of Rap,’” he paused to do the quotations motion with his fingers, “because I heard I was good at it. And you're going to have to get use to me in long sleeves and jeans because it's all I have in my closet.”

 

 “Alright.”

 

 “That’s all you’re going to say?”

 

 “You want me to say more?”

 

 “No, no. It’s cool,” Hansol paused to look down at his watch, “I have to head back now. See you tomorrow Boo.”

 

 Seungkwan nodded his head in acknowledgement, watching the other run towards the exit of the park in the direction of Downtown Jeju City. He pondered on the other’s words a few beats more until the realization of a promise for a meeting tomorrow was ensured.

 

 For once, Seungkwan allowed himself to have a small smile grace his lips before it disappeared. Maybe meeting the taller boy tomorrow didn’t sound that bad.

 

 When he got home later that evening, it was surprising to see his mother humming away quietly in the kitchen trying to whip up some food. Though she was visually exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes prominent, Seungkwan always thought his mother was the most beautiful woman who could ever graced the earth.

 

 His mother seemed to have felt his presence, turning around to smile at him. He graciously returned the deed before sliding into the kitchen to help her chop some of the ingredients.

 

 “How was the library today, Kwannie?” she asked, her voice soft against the rugged and chipped walls.

 

 “It was alright, Mama. Nothing really out of the ordinary.”

 

 “Did you make any friends today?”

 

 He wants to lie and say no, because he was busy. Or maybe he wouldn’t be lying, because Hansol never mentioned anything about being friends. Instead, he chooses to tell the truth.

 

 “I met a boy. I don’t know if we’re friends or will ever be friends.”

 

 This seems to grabs his mother’s attention.

 

 “Oh? What do you mean sweetheart?”

 

 “He ran after me and confronted me about leaving paper airplanes on the ground. And then he introduced himself as a rap king or whatever. He was just so weird Mama.”

 

 The woman stifled back laughter, but her eyes still crinkled at the ends and her head still tilted backwards. It was just like how his father fell in love with her in the first place. Seungkwan remembers the stories, used to ask about his dad to tell them everyday.

 

 _“Your Ma used to do this thing whenever I told her a joke or something funny. She’d try to stifle her laughter with her head tilt back, but I was in love with her laughter, so I would just continue doing dilly-dallies just to make her laugh. Your Ma’s beautiful Kwannie. I am still in love with her,”_ he remembered his father saying to him once.

 

 Seungkwan wonders if he’ll ever find love. Sometimes, he fidgets underneath the thought that he hasn’t felt an attraction to girls. Other times, he forgets about the whole ordeal in general.

 

 “Those kinds of people hold millions of secrets Kwannie. They just use a different way to express themselves.”

 

 He bites back a question and lets it lay thick on the back of his tongue.

 

_Like my paper airplanes?_

 

 The sound of the rice cooker beeping brought him back. His mother hurriedly ushering him to set the table while they let the soup simmer for a while longer.

 

 That night, he fell asleep with a full stomach and a mind filled with paper airplanes and a microphone. His heart still had a heavy weight, and the worry that eats away at his thoughts seem to take over,  but his shoulders feel much more relaxed against the pillows.

 

 When morning arose, the first thing Seungkwan felt was a subtle ache nagging away at him. When events of the pervious night washed over him, the feeling dulled away. He felt a little lighter knowing that his mother was still the charming woman he’d always seen her as.

 

 The wooden floor was cool against his feet despite the island being humid because of the summer heat. He quickly washed up and threw on a weather appropriate baby blue t-shirt and dark knee shorts.

 

 Seungkwan always loved the crisp morning air of Jeju. It woke him up, made him feel better. It almost seemed comforting to him. With the freshness of the air and the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, he would almost say it was like paradise.

 

 Except, well, it wasn’t.

 

 The park was always a lot quieter in the morning. The only people there were elderly ladies and gentlemen doing some exercises on the grass under the shady trees and younger couples jogging along the walkways. The library, of course, was no exception.

 

 Mr. Jung always got to work early, Seungkwan had noticed this a while ago. When he first met the library owner, the older male seemed lazy and uncooperative. Seungkwan later learned that the man woke up two to three hours before the library opens to reorganize the books back into order.

 

 When Seungkwan asked him about it, all he did was a wave of hands.

 

 “It’s not because I care about this old shack, Kwan. It’s because when someone walks in asking for a book, I gotta know where everything is. Y’get me?”

 

 Seungkwan knew better than to justify, so he nodded along and helped put the books back.

 

 The day went by quicker, and a lot more boring than Seungkwan thought it would have. It seemed like all the children decided against the air conditioned library to go to else where, but the library was lacking giggling kids and the sound of teenagers pressing against keyboards.

 

 Before he knew it, he was already walking outside with a handful of paper airplanes to the hilltop.

 

 The first one went far, a lot farther than any of the previous ones he had made days before. Too bad it landed with a crushed nose and upside down. The second one went backwards and landed a few feet behind him. The third one went straight up, and the straight down. The ones after those flew the same way, never more than six feet in front of him.

 

 “You know, your airplanes aren’t going to fly far,” a voice chimes in next to him, causing him to jump and drop the handful of planes onto the ground.

 

 He turned to glare at the offender, only to have it melt back down into confusion.

 

 “What do you want Hanseol?”

 

 “It’s Hansol,” the other said, “And I told you that I was going to see you today.”

 

 “I never agreed, did I?” Seungkwan shot back, standing up to pick the planes up.

 

 “Well you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

 

 Seungkwan huffed, as he discarded the scraps away into a nearby trash can.

 

 “You should have recycled them.”

 

 “We don’t have recycling bins in this park Hansol.”

 

 “Oh.”

 

 Seungkwan sighed as the other boy fell into sync with his walking. No matter what he did, it seemed like Hansol would just follow him. So he did what was best.

 

 “Hey, do you want to go grab some ice cream and hang out by the beach?” he asked, his eyes downcast to their feet.

  

 He saw Hansol pause from shock before picking up the pace again.

 

 “Did James Boo just invite me to hang out?—

 

 He groaned, he already regretted his choice.

 

 —I’m just messing. Yeah, ice cream sounds nice right now.”

 

 Sitting on sand at Pyoseon Beach with a strange boy he just met yesterday was not the ideal day Boo Seungkwan had planned. In fact, he would rather be at home with his back pressed into his mattress screaming along to sad songs, but Hansol did offer to pay for the ice cream.

 

 Though, he would have to admit that it was nice. He hadn’t actually spent time at the beach ever since his dad was admitted to the hospital.

 

 All the children seemed to abandoned the library for the beach during summer. Their laughter was much louder and more free out in the open. More than half of them were soaking wet from playing in the waves while their parents laid back relaxing against the sand.

 

 “So Seungkwan, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

 

 “Why do I have to tell you about me.”

 

 “Well, it’s how friendship works doesn’t it?”

 

 Seungkwan was about to argue, but he hasn’t talked to anyone of the same age in a while. And he would be lying if it didn’t feel lonely at times.

 

 “How come I have to start?” he said instead, “How about yourself?”

 

 Hansol grinned at him— Seungkwan thinks he has digestion problems because he suddenly feels stuffy— before finishing the rest of his ice cream cone.

 

 “Well, my name is Hansol Vernon Choi. I’m originally from New York, but my parents decided it was best to move to Seoul. I’m seventeen,” he says with ease before guiding his eyes back to Seungkwan.

 

 Seungkwan sighed, “My name is Boo Seungkwan. Born and raised in Jeju. I’m also seventeen and I work at that library in the park.”

 

 “What about your favorite color. What about music?”

 

 “I like green, but not that gross swampy green- ugh no that’s such an ugly color. I’m talking about that forest green. I listen to a lot of ballads,” Seungkwan says, not missing a beat, “And you?”

 

 “Cool, I like red. All shades of red, actually. I listen to a lot of rap and hip hop, but ballads are nice too. Maybe we can recommend songs to each other once in awhile.”

 

 “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

 

 They quiet down after that. The two of them just embrace the calmness of being on the beach.

 

 Occasionally, he would peek at the other boy through his eyelashes before turning back to the ocean view. And although he doesn’t realize, Hansol glances at him from the corner of his eyes and turns away just before Seungkwan turns to look at him.

 

 "I have a younger sister named Sophia," Hansol says out of the blue while the two of them sit through the beginning of the sunset.

 

 "Tell me about her," Seungkwan says, reaching out to play with the sea shells that were near them.

 

 "She's five years younger than me. She always liked being around my friends and playing along."

 

 "She sounds adorable."

 

 "She is. After my parents both went to go work overseas, she became the most important person in my life."

 

 Seungkwan stilled, processing the information.

 

 "What do your parents work as?"

 

 "They're artists. They travel a lot, but they made their stay this time permanent."

 

 "What about your sister?" By now, Seungkwan had already arranged the shells into a semi circle.

 

 "She's living with my grandmother right now," Hansol says, twirling his fingers in the warm sand.

 

 "Don't you miss her?" Seungkwan continues.

 

 "All the time."

 

 “I’m sorry.”

 

 “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have said that so randomly,” Hansol chuckles afterwards.

 

 “I don’t mind,” Seungkwan replies.

 

 “What about you?” the other suddenly asks.

 

 “What do you mean?” Seungkwan says as he raises a shelf to examine it more closely.

 

 “Your family, I mean,” Hansol answers.

 

 Seungkwan ponders for a few moments before replying, “My mom is absolutely lovely and my dad has always been my heroic figure. They fell in love beautifully, but had hardships. They used to dance under moonlight and sing under falling autumn leaves.”

 

 “Used to?”

 

 “My dad has been hospitalized for the past year,” Seungkwan says. The air around them seems to start to suffocate him.

 

 “Oh,” Hansol says, “I’m really sorry”

 

 “It’s okay,” Seungkwan replies, grateful that the conversation was over. Hansol quiets down after that.

 

 The sun had already disappeared halfway down the horizon when Seungkwan stood up. He dusted away at the sand that stuck to his legs and reached out to pull Hansol up along with him.

 

 “It’s getting late. We should go home,” he chimes. The other nods his head in agreement and bids a goodbye.

 

 “I’ll see you soon?”

 

 “Yeah, I’ll see you soon Hansol.”

 

 He waits to see the other boy walk away until his backview is no longer visible before turning and making it back to his house. It feels a little bit better, he thinks, to have someone to have a talk with. And maybe, just maybe, Hansol and he can be friends after all.

 

* * *

 

 

  He doesn’t expect his mom to be present when he reaches home. She’s sitting on the couch twiddling strands of her hair together.

 

 “Mom?” he calls out. His mother turns her head, and smiles at him.

 

 “Sweetie, I think it’s time we pay your father a little visit.”

 

 “Oh,” he says, taken aback, “When do you want to go?”

 

 “We can go this weekend when you’re off.”

 

 “Okay,” he says, toeing off his shoes.

 

 “There’s dinner on the table. It’s not much since we’re on a budget, but I’m sure it’ll fill you up,” she says, standing up, “How was your day Kwannie?”

 

 “I think I made a friend. His name is Hansol.”

 

 “Is he nice?”

 

 “I don’t know yet, but he’s comfortable to be around with.”

 

 “You should bring him home one day. Let me cook up a nice meal for him.”

 

 “I think I’ll pass mom. You’ve been overworking yourself, I don’t want the most lovely woman in the world to accidentally hurt herself while cooking.”

 

 His mother let out a chuckle, “You sure know how to make me smile Kwan.”

 

 “Well if I don’t, who will?”

 

 “I suppose you’re right. I’m grateful to have a son like you.”

 

 Seungkwan smiled sadly. _I’m just trying to make this worthwhile for you_ , he thinks.

 

* * *

  

 The hospital is as nauseating as usual. The white walls seem to close down on him a he follows his mother and nurse down the hallway. It smells like disinfectant and everything fake.

 

 There’s a little girl that they pass. The doctor crouched down in front of her while her mother stands behind her, muffling sobs in the sleeves of her sweater. He hears words like dad, better place, and safe.

 

 Seungkwan’s stomach twists.

 

 When he enters the hospital room, he is told that his father is getting better by the doctor. He’s a well-built man, shoulders, broad and face, slim.

 

 He hears his mother let out a shaky breath and grasp her husband’s hand who smiles at her. His father’s eyes are full of reassurance, and his mother’s are full of love.

 

 His father turns to him. His eyes are an ocean of tears waiting to be tipped over and to be poured. Seungkwan takes three long strides to be next to him, and never in his life has he ever felt so light.

  

* * *

 

 Seungkwan meets Hansol three days after their last encounter. The other boy is propped up against the wall of the library with two skateboards tucked underneath his arms. The sleeve of his shirt looks like it's about to tear whenever the grip tape drags and stretches it.

 

 “Why do you have those?” He asked, eyeing the boards uneasily.

 

 “I’m glad you asked, Boo. Today is the day when I teach how to be cool and skate,” Hansol said, a smug smile evading his face.

 

 “Listen Choi,” Seungkwan said, “I don’t skate.”

 

 “Not with that attitude,” the other said while chucking a helmet at him.

 

 Seungkwan sighed and caught the helmet. He quickly placed it on his head and clipped in place.

 

 “Can we at least do it where people won’t laugh if I fall?”

 

 “The only person that would be laughing is me,” Hansol said, carefully pushing one of the boards to Seungkwan, “but if you laugh then that’d be great too y’know? It means you’re having fun, and that’s the good stuff.”

 

 “Alright then, I hope you’re patient because the last time I got on one of these, I fell right back and had a major bruise on my ass for a week,” Seungkwan said as he began walking up the hill of the park.

 

 “I have all the patience in world for you,” Hansol said fondly as he watched Seungkwan push the board up the hill with his feet.

 

 “What was that?” Seungkwan yelled back as he turned around.

 

 Hansol quickly straightened up and yelled back, “Nothing! Just mumbling about how bad you might be!”

 

 “Excuse me? You were the one you wanted to teach me, you piece of poop!” Seungkwan huffed as he continued up.

 

 Hansol laughed and quickly grabbed his board and ran to catch up with the other.

 

 It had been an hour and a few minutes into the one-on-one skate lesson and Seungkwan has yet to fall once. In fact, he was extremely pleased to find out he had good balance.

 

 “Okay. Now you just carefully lift your back foot off the board and push off,” Hansol said, gripping Seungkwan’s upper arm.

 

 “Oh! Okay, I think I did it-”

 

 Seungkwan has only few regrets in life. Learning how to skate from Hansol was one of them.

 

 Hansol ran over, nearly wheezing and out of breath from laughing so hard.

 

 “Shut up, Sol. Oh my god, that hurt like a bitch,” Seungkwan said from the ground, the helmet was crooked on top of his head.

 

 “Okay, okay. I’ll stop,” Hansol paused mid-sentence to take a deep intake of air, “laughing, but you should’ve seen your face,” he grabbed Seungkwan forearm to help bring him to standing position, “Are you okay though? It was quite a fall.”

 

 “Yeah I’m fine. Maybe I’ll do better if we take a break and go get something to eat, Sol.”

 

 When Seungkwan realized the other had stopped following him down the hill, he turned around and raised an eyebrow questionably at Hansol.

 

 “Are you coming?”

 

 “It’s the first time you called me by a nickname,” Hansol said, grinning at him.

 

 “Could you be any more annoying?” Seungkwan asked, rolling his eyes. It wasn’t hard to see that he was anything but annoyed with the smile creeping on his face.

 

 “Actually, yes I can. For example when you first met me, I basically chased you down a block because of a paper airplane, but look where it got us now Boo,” Hansol replied, slipping his board under his arm as he walked side by side with the other.

 

 Seungkwan chuckled at that. He couldn’t deny that having Hansol around did make his life more interesting and fun. His mother had even realized the change in mood whenever they hang out.

 

 Later that night, Seungkwan realizes, in the distraction of his contentment, that he kind of really likes Hansol. And it wasn't a friend-type-of-like, but a like-like type.

 

 Hansol, to Seungkwan, felt like late night dates with the beach breeze blowing through their hair. He felt more like home than home did, and much softer than his favorite baby blue sweater.

 

 He sighs, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and grips his blanket a little tighter. With Hansol floating in his dreams, he falls into a sweet, sweet slumber.

 

* * *

  

 Seungkwan doesn’t know how to feel when he looks at Hansol now. After the realization hit him that he had developed feelings for the other, it seemed awkward and unfamiliar to be around him. As if liking him had made Hansol a new person, someone that Seungkwan observes a little more closely than he used to.

 

 Usually, he would overlook what Hansol would wear. But today, there was something a little different about the boy.

 

 “Did you get a haircut?” he asked, eyeing the snapback that sat snugly on Hansol’s head.

 

 “I was hoping no one would notice,” Hansol said, sighing as he reached up to pull the hat further down his head.

 

 “Don’t do that, Sol. I want to see how it looks,” Seungkwan said as he tried to pull the hat off.

 

 “Promise you won’t laugh?”

 

 “Sure”

 

 “That wasn’t a yes, Boo,” Hansol said while pulling the hat off anyway.

 

 Seungkwan thought that long-haired Hansol was attractive, but short-haired Hansol with slightly shaved sides went way beyond the point of attractiveness. He cleared his throat to break the awkward silence that had embraced the both of them and gave Hansol two thumbs up.

 

 “It looks good! What are you worried about?” he asked.

 

 “It feels weird. And when I video-chatted with Sofia, she giggled and said I looked funny.”

 

 “Well, you kinda do.”

 

 “Hey! You said it looked good,” Hansol pouted.

 

 “It does, but it _is_ weird seeing you without the longer hair.”

 

 Seungkwan chuckled at the other’s distress.

 

 “Alright Boo, stop laughing and let’s go get some food,” Hansol said, tugging Seungkwan by the arm.

 

 Seungkwan hummed and began walking, watching their arms sway by each other. He wants nothing more than to reach out and intertwine their fingers and pull Hansol closer to his side.

 

 “ _Stop it Boo Seungkwan”_ he thinks, _“Hansol doesn’t even like you that way. Stop trying.”_

 

 “Seungkwan?” Hansol says, waving his hands in front of the latter’s face, “Yo, Kwan. Stop spacing out on me dude.”

 

 “Huh?” Seungkwan says, snapping out of his thoughts.

 

 “I asked if you wanted to eat here.”

 

 Seungkwan looks up and catches site of a pizza place.

 

 “Pizza?”

 

 Hansol paused and stared at him before speaking, “Well, you told me once that you never had pizza. I thought, y’know, maybe you would like to try some.”

 

 “You remembered that?”

 

 “I remember everything when it comes to my best friend,” Hansol said nonchalantly.

 

 If roses were red, then Seungkwan’s cheeks must’ve been a rose garden.

 

 “You’re such a loser Sol. Stop being so cheesy,” he said, laughing awkwardly as he walked through the doors.

 

 Hansol rolled his eyes, “Says the one who never had pizza.”

 

* * *

  

 Seungkwan realizes, he has yet to invite Hansol over. He’s sure his mother wouldn’t mind him having a friend over. Madame Boo has to be one of the most accepting people he’s ever been around.

 

 “Hey Sol, do you wanna come over today? It’s too hot to do something outside,” Seungkwan asks as the two of them stare up at the leaves. Hansol had decided it was a good idea to wear a long sleeve when the weather outside had been hot enough to cook tteokbokki on the gravel. He had forced Seungkwan, who was clad in shorts and a short sleeve shirt, to lie in the shade of a nearby willow tree.

 

 “I thought you’d never ask Boo. It would be an honor to be in the residence of the great Boo Seungkwan,” Hansol said, laughing and he rolled away to avoid Seungkwan’s slap.

 

 “My mom is going to question how I let myself be friends with a dork like you,” Seungkwan said, sitting up and chuckling.

 

 “What? Would you rather have me be Mr. Serious all the time? Y’know I knew someone like that once. His name was Jeon Wonwoo. He rarely smiled, but one time I caught him laughing his heart out with this other guy named Kim Mingyu,” Hansol said.

 

 Seungkwan raised an eyebrow at the sudden story.

 

 “Sorry, sometimes I like to use others in my stories to make a point,” Hansol said, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

 “There’s nothing wrong with that Sol. It’s pretty interesting,” Seungkwan said.

 

 “So, anyway, we were going to your house?”

 

 “Right this way Mr. Choi,” Seungkwan said, standing up and walking in the direction of his home.

 

 The walk back home was peaceful. The sounds of waves crashing against sand and rocks accompanied their walk home. Their footsteps in sync creating a rhythm that one could nod their head to.

 

 “Mom?” Seungkwan calls out as he opened his front door.

 

 “I’m in the kitchen Kwannie!” her voice calls out, echoing against walls.

 

 “I brought Hansol over, is that okay?”

 

 “Of course it is honey, I’ve been waiting to finally meet this so-called best friend of yours,” she yells back.

 

 “Your mom is quite cheerful,” Hansol comments, his fingers carefully tracing over the hip-height shelf with pictures.

 

 “She’s quite a splendid woman, I must say,” Seungkwan hums as he makes his way towards the kitchen.

 

 Seungkwan’s mother is currently chopping away at carrots. The knife against wooden cutboard lulls the boys into the room.

 

 “Good afternoon, Auntie. My name is Hansol and I am Seungkwan’s best friend,” Hansol starts, “And may I say, you look absolutely beautiful today.”

 

 Seungkwan scoffs, “Ma, Hansol’s just being all fancy because he’s afraid you won’t like him.”

 

 Madame Boo laughs, and smiles fondly at Hansol, “Oh dear, don’t worry. If you make my Seungkwan happy then there is no possible way I can’t like you.”

 

 Seungkwan thinks his mother is most beautiful when she meets new people. Her eyes light up with the corner of her lip curving up into a gentle smile and she takes their hand with such fondness that even the toughest of men would melt.

 

 Hansol breathes out in relief, “You really are just as lovely as Seungkwan tells me.”

 

 Seungkwan thinks Hansol is most beautiful when his cheeks are pink with warmth. His eyes shining against the dim light of the kitchen while he helps Seungkwan’s mother set the table and he laughs with such freedom that Seungkwan could not bear to not get lost into.

 

 “Kwannie tells me that you’re from the city,” Madame Boo says as she spoons more food onto Hansol’s plate.

 

 “I am, but I’m currently living with my aunt and uncle,” Hansol replies, politely rejecting the offer of peanuts on his dish.

 

 “How are long are you staying dear?” she asks once again.

 

 “Only for a few months. There’s business back at the city that hasn’t been settled yet,” Hansol says, not realizing the change of expression on Seungkwan’s face.

 

 “You’re leaving?” Seungkwan asks softly.

 

 Hansol freezes mid-bite. He scampers for words, “Listen, Seungkwan, I really wanted to tell you I really did, but it never came up.”

 

 Seungkwan stays quiet and wonders if he should’ve seen it coming. He looks up to see Hansol staring at him apologetically with worry evident in his hazel irises. He sighs, standing up.

 

 “I’m not really hungry anymore Ma, I think I’ll finish my dinner tomorrow for lunch,” Seungkwan says before taking off towards the front door and slamming the door close.

 

 Scratch that. Seungkwan thinks Hansol is ugly.

 

 Hansol realizes that he fucked up. He turns to Madame Boo only to see her smiling gently, sadly, at him.

 

 “You don’t have to explain darling,” she says as she comfortingly takes his hand into her warm ones, “Seungkwan’s always been the one to express his emotions a little dramatically at times. I just wish someone like you would be here to stay with him, but the future has already been decided for you, hasn’t it?”

 

 “I’m afraid what’s coming for me is going to sit with me for a long while, Auntie,” Hansol says quietly. He sighs afterwards and lowers his head down.

 

 “Is there anything you want to get off your chest Hansol?”

 

 Hansol takes a deep breath.

 

* * *

  

 Hansol and Seungkwan do not meet up for the next week. Seungkwan is back in the library and shelving books with Mr. Jung.

 

 The old man seemed surprised at his return and welcomed him back happily before shoving a box of books to the latter to start working right after.

 

 “Welcome back, Kwan! I’d thought you were finally fed up with this old shack when that other boy came around,” Mr. Jung cheerfully says.

 

 Seungkwan smiles back as if the past week hasn’t caused him sleepless nights and a few tears. He rolls the cart further along the shelves and hears a little girl quietly reading to herself as her mother looks for books of her own.

 

 The library itself didn’t change much. It still had the old books and cinnamon scent Seungkwan had learned to love. The same children came by, checking out books similar of their previous choice.

  

 The books still lay heavy in his hands, the corners of the covers dull, overused. The pages felt like brittle, dry, and worn away at every edge. They would be thrown out soon. Mr. Jung would always order new books when the old ones become unreadable.

 

 He glances outside, staring longingly at the hill that Hansol and he once sat. His eyes traced the sky, making imaginary lines of where the paper airplanes once flew. He shakes his head and goes back to putting away the books.

 

 When work was over, he trailed along the shore to get home. His eyes shift from wave to wave, feet sinking in sand, breathing in the sea. Then, he stops at a place all too familiar to him. He sits down on the warm sand, taking in the sight that Hansol once shared with him.

 

 Seungkwan lied. Hansol’s been beautiful to him ever since he fell in love with him.

 

* * *

  

 Hansol comes back like a thunderstorm. He barges into the library, bowing quickly to Mr. Jung, before grabbing Seungkwan by the arm and tugging him outside.

 

 “What do you want from me,” Seungkwan says, not having the strength to fight the taller.

 

 “I want you to stop ignoring me and pretending like I never existed,” Hansol says, breathing heavily. He ran to the library.

 

 “It’s not like you put in an effort to come back anyway.”

 

 Hansol breathes. He shifts his weight to his right leg and his hand reaches for his elbow, “Look, I know I fucked up Kwan. I did, and I’m sorry, I really am. I’m here because I missed you and I came to apologize for not telling you. You don’t have to accept it, I just want to apologize.”

 

 Seungkwan wishes he wasn’t in love with Hansol, because he forgave too easily, too quickly.

 

 “I forgive you,” Seungkwan says, “Now let’s go get some ice cream.”

 

 Hansol beams at him, and Seungkwan melts inside. Being in love was hard. Being in love someone who you know will never be yours is even harder.

 

* * *

  

 Weeks pass, Hansol and Seungkwan are happy.

 

 Seungkwan opted to write out his feelings on paper before turning them into paper airplanes. It was simple, he writes, folds, then flies, then boom. He forgets.

 

 Hansol didn’t know. He never bothered to open the airplanes. Seungkwan knew he was too oblivious to do so, especially when he had his headphones in.

 

 They’re sitting on the hill again. The sun is setting away at the horizon and Seungkwan steals looks at Hansol who’s lying down. Hansol’s eyes are growing heavy and he watches the sun settled.

 

 Seungkwan thinks Hansol looks unreal with the golden sunset on his skin.

 

 “I’m going to go to the restroom,” Seungkwan says, standing up. He leaves the airplanes on the ground and dusts off his pants.

 

 Hansol hums in acknowledgement.

 

 Seungkwan leaves and Hansol fiddles around with the airplanes. His eyes catch something underneath the wing, and he grows curious. His finger carefully unwind the airplane, scared to tear away at the paper.

 

 He reads the letter. His heart hurts.

 

 Hansol finds out just like that. Almost terribly so, he confronts Seungkwan who returned from the restroom.

 

 "You like me?" he asks, walking towards Seungkwan.

 

 Seungkwan freezes in his step, his eyes show fear and sadness. He starts to shake.

 

 “You like me?” Hansol asks again, standing up and taking steps towards the other boy. The sun had fully set, it was dark now.

 

 He wanted to know. He asks again, “Seungkwan, do you like me?”

 

 "I might even fucking love you, Sol," Seungkwan says, tears welling up in his eyes. He’s not scared anymore.

 

 Hansol pauses in his step, and stands still. He looks at Seungkwan. The other stood shaking, crying. Seungkwan has never looked so stripped down, never looked as beautiful as he did now.

 

 “We can’t,” Hansol says, backing away.

 

 "Is it because you're afraid?"

 

 "You won't understand, you can't understand," Hansol says, backing up. The roles seemingly switched as he was the one backing up while Seungkwan steps forward.

 

 "I can't understand if you won't tell me."

 

 "Seungkwan, please."

 

 "What is going to hurt me Sol. It's not like you're moving away for ever, are you?" Seungkwan snaps with spite in his words.

 

 Hansol stares at him long and hard.

 

 “I don’t like boys.”

 

 Seungkwan feels his heart break. He nods, “I figured.”

 

 Every single speck of hope in Seungkwan was gone. Hansol had said it with his mouth. There was no chance that the other boy would ever like him, let alone love him.

 

 Hansol opens his mouth as if to take it back, but instead, he turns and walks away.

 

 Hansol realizes one thing. He’s a liar. He’s a fucking liar who’s in love with Boo Seungkwan.

 

 He doesn't know when to stop lying. He doesn't know if he even has time. 


End file.
